Orphean Wing
by Kirachu
Summary: When people begin to go missing in Mugenjou, Gen turns to the Get Backers for help. (chapter 2 uploaded)
1. Chapter One

**Orphean Wing**  
_Chapter One_

================================

The man was Japanese, pure as his dark eyes and the heavy accent, born and raised; maybe not in Tokyo, he might have come from somewhere else originally. Still, there was no denying it. Somehow, outside of Mugenjou, in the falling dusk of afternoon, his shadow casting low on the ground, he seemed foreign. 

When he stepped inside the cafe, there was the sound of that unmistakable chime. It was something Ban had grown so accustomed to he hardly flinched at the sound, not even glancing in direction unless he knew it was someone worth his time. Natsumi followed the jingle of the bell, almost trained to react to the sound, "Welcome!" 

But today, for some reason, he looked up and saw the man standing there. He could still remember last he saw him. Inside Mugenjou, on that assignment to retrieve the IL. Not much had changed. Same scruffy, graying beard that might have been black or dark brown once upon a time; hard to tell. That hat pulled low over his head so only the bushy eyebrows identical in color to his beard showed. Gen. Gen the pharmacist. A pharmacist Ban had never been able to believe was only what he claimed to be. 

His eyes snapped to Paul almost unconsciously. The bartender had lowered his newspaper in that slow, casual manner of his, his expression yielding nothing. Never did much, really, his dark sunglasses hiding his face too well; Ban figured the only time he saw a clear emotion on his face was when he was yelling at them to pay off their tab or to clear the hell out. But he could see something shift in his stance somehow, a slight tense of muscles, and the slow downward curve at the corner of his mouth. Paul recognized him. 

Gen's eyes had traveled the room and found Ban before Natsumi could ask him if he wanted anything. She followed his gaze and held her tongue. Usually, she asked even the potential clients that came looking for them at the cafe if they wanted tea or coffee, but for some reason, something about this man restrained her. Ban leaned back in the booth he sat in, arms splaying out across its back, nonchalant and all unconcerned arrogance. Like everyday, people from Mugenjou were popping up looking for him. 

"Kazuki said I would find you here," Gen said. Ban raised an eyebrow. What was that thread spool doing? He always stuck his fingers where they didn't belong. 

"Yeah?" Ban echoed, reaching out to pull the ash tray on the table closer to him. He withdrew the cigarette from his lips and tapped out the ash. Gen slid into the seat across from him as he did, and Ban didn't even have to ask. He was here as a client. This wasn't some joy visit. 

He glanced toward Natsumi, hovering close by. She always did, listening in on their jobs. Added a bit of a thrill in her otherwise mediocre routine, Ban guessed. Or something. 

"Y'want coffee or something?" he asked, giving her at least an excuse to get closer to them without seeming like a busy-body. Gen seemed startled he'd ask. Definitely like a foreigner, Ban reaffirmed. But then, Mugenjou almost was its own separate world. 

"Oh, yes, coffee. Thank you." 

Natsumi shuffled away with a little twirl, bouncing to the bar while Paul prepared the order. Ban noted he took down his personal cup while he was at it, too, another small thing Ban treated like second nature. Paul always gave him free coffee when there was a potential client. When Ban asked him once, he said having a coffee in hand made him look more professional. Ginji had laughed and said with the words 'the invincible Midou Ban-sama's personal cup!' scrawled on it in messy characters, it was anything but. 

"What're you doing here, old man?" 

"Well," Gen began, pausing when Natsumi appeared with their coffee and nodding his thanks, "you're retrieval specialists, aren't you?" 

Ban snorted. "Only the best." He lifted his cup to his lips, speaking around its rim. "Ginji's not around right now, though." His partner had gone springing merrily off with the monkey trainer and Madoka earlier that morning, to some recital she was having. Ban had opted not to go. Just shrugged the offer away and said he'd wait around the cafe in case business came by. It had been going pretty slow lately. It was enough that one of them could get a small break, he figured. 

Natsumi sat down in the booth behind him, laying her arms on the backrest of the chair. She could have sat with either one of them, maybe; she would have squeezed into the booth if Ginji were there. But Ban was different. He liked Natsumi-chan, had sworn numerous times to beat the crap out of any poor bastard who dared break her heart, but there was still an unseen boundary between them. It was a boundary only Ginji dared tempt, and Ginji the only one Ban let do it. Natsumi knew better than to get too close to him. 

"I can come back--" Gen began, but Ban cut him off short. 

"What's the job?" Had to be something, for this guy to come all the way from Mugenjou. Especially when it seemed like it'd been a good twenty, thirty years since he'd be on the outside. 

Gen was quiet for a moment. Most clients were. Sorting out their thoughts, wondering how to begin wording their request. Ban had sat across from so many people, listened to so many tales of woe, that it too had become routine to him. Second nature. Something to be accustomed to. Sometimes, he thought maybe it was time to try something new. 

And every time he thought that, he thought of Ginji, and his partner's smiling face, and knew he couldn't leave this for anything. 

"People are going missing in Mugenjou." 

Ban cocked an eyebrow. "Missing, how?" 

"Missing," Gen repeated. "Vanished. They're just gone." 

"People don't go poof," Ban said automatically, and only then realized the folly of his words. 

People did. In Mugenjou, people could go poof at any moment. Because in Mugenjou, not everyone was real. Some people, who in all outward appearances were normal human beings living their lives day by day in the demon's nest, were not really people at all. They were images. Holograms. Bits and pieces of data. 

Gen saw that Ban realized, and his mouth tugged up in a humorless smile. "People are being deleted from the Archive." 

"What the hell for?" Ban demanded. Gen shook his head. 

"I don't know." He wouldn't. Things happened in Mugenjou inexplicably. No one knew why; some lived, some died, some were placed there for a greater purpose, and some were merely pieces in the jigsaw. Everything happened in accordance to the will of some puppeteer, pulling and manipulating the strings. Some person, thing, creature, whatever, that Makubex had called the god of Babylon City. 

Who seemed to be deleting people just for the hell of it. 

Ban watched Gen for a moment, and then knew why the man was there. 

"You think computer boy and that girl are going to disappear like the rest of them." 

He nodded, the bow of his head bleak and resigned. "Makubex more than Ren," he said, as though it mattered; either one, and he would be crushed. "Makubex... knows too much." Yeah. Computer kid was too smart like that. Computer kid was going to get his ass handed to him for it, too. Or computer kid was going to disappear, go poof one day, and no one would ever see him again. 

"We can't go finding people who've been," he paused, considering his words, and continued, "deleted. There's nothing there to get back." 

"That isn't my request. I want you to find someone outside of Mugenjou. Ichigo Hideki." 

"Yeah? Who's he?" 

Gen paused only for a moment, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Ban already knew he was going to get a history lesson instead of the short, clipped version. Clients liked to do that, too. Ginji was concerned with matters like that. Why they needed the help of the Get Backers, how much they valued the object they wanted retrieved. Ban would rather hear what it was, the briefest of explanations concerning its theft, and then talk cash. 

"I was an architect. I helped in the design and construction of Mugenjou. Ichigo was also involved, but in a different area than myself." Another pause. "He designed the program." 

"Program," Ban repeated. 

"To create virtual humans. It's a software program in the central computer of the Archive. It creates humans, shapes their lives and purposes, and then at some point or another, they appear in Mugenjou." 

Behind him, Ban heard Natsumi make a small sound of surprise. She had never heard any of this before. They never troubled her with it; she knew of Mugenjou, that it was where Ginji and the thread spool and monkey trainer were from, and that he still had friends there. But everything about its twisted, dark secrets, she was spared. It was too heavy of a thing for her, and Ban liked her naive as she was. Preferred her that way. 

"Natsumi-chan, more coffee, huh?" 

"Oh! Sure, Ban-san!" He watched her take his cup from the corner of his eye, hurrying to the counter to refill the only half finished cup, and returned his gaze lazily to Gen. 

"It was originally only a test site," Gen continued, his tone softer now. "Mugenjou, I mean. For this program. For other programs. For more things than I know myself." 

"To see whether it could be used outside?" Ban didn't need to confirm. Outside, relevant of a term as it was, meant the world to Gen. Because in Mugenjou, that was the world. Their own private world, slummy and a hard, despairing existence, but it was their world, and outside was a place full of confusion and uncertainty. 

Gen nodded. "To plant someone, maybe. Someone of political power, some sway in the world. Mugenjou was never enough for them. They want to expand, control more." 

Ban didn't ask who 'they' were. He doubted even Gen knew. 'They' might have been only 'he', the so claimed god of Babylon City, or some greater, deeper society. 'They' were merely the ones setting the board and moving the pieces. And the computer kid, that messed up little kid Ginji cared about so much, was a threat they could delete so easily. 

When he opened his mouth, it was to ask why, why were they doing this, deleting people now and without reason. But how stupid a question it was. Gen wouldn't know. No one would know. No one knew or could begin to comprehend the way things moved in Mugenjou. He sure as hell wasn't aiming to try, either. Ban didn't much like headaches. 

So instead his question was simple, "Why do you want this guy found?" 

"He designed the program," Gen repeated. "He can stop them. Return people who have been removed from the system. Put a lock on the program. Something." 

Ban stubbed out his cigarette and reached for another. He could ask the computer boy to do it, hack into the system and take control of the program. Hell, maybe even the old man could do it himself, or that little girl that lived with him. But it wasn't about whether they could or couldn't. It was because they could be deleted. Removed from the system. Even Gen, real and breathing as he was, outside of Mugenjou and in, could be disposed of. 

Natsumi came back with the coffee, and when she sat down his cup and made a move to sit down again in the chair behind him, hesitating a moment as though asking for his permission, he waved her on. She sat, quiet and concerned, and made no sound. 

"Where can I find this Ichigo?" It was the last question. 

"I don't know." Apparently the hardest to answer, too. 

"S'not a very good lead, old man," Ban said, tone dry. 

Gen shook his head. "They must have done something. Gotten rid of him, forced him to leave Mugenjou." 

"You sure he isn't dead?" Seemed more likely. Someone like that, someone so smart as to create that kind of a program, and for some organization or person so twisted as to use it, had to be valuable. That was no mediocre technology the guy had come up with. Seemed strange, somehow, for the god of Babylon or whatever to let him go so easily. 

"I'm not sure," Gen answered, voice soft and reluctantly resigned, "but I don't think they would. I think they let him go, not without threats on his life and his family, but they still let him go." 

Maybe. A long shot, but a long shot this guy was willing to bet on. 

It was going to be hard. With as little information as that, running on some wild goose chase in search of some man who could be dead for all he knew, all to save the lives of people who never really had lives. But Ginji wouldn't see it that way. To Ginji, it didn't matter if they were chips in a computer, a piece of software ran from some mother machine in the center of Babylon City. They were his friends. They were people he had once known, sworn to protect, and still felt an undying obligation to. Ban couldn't damn well say no and look his partner straight in the eyes again. 

"All right," he said. "Consider us hired." 


	2. Chapter Two

**Orphean Wing**  
_Chapter Two_

* * *

He hadn't ever become accustomed to high class society. The clothing, the houses, the cars, the food, etiquette and manners -- it was too much for him. But to see her face light up with a smile so blinding and eyes so soft, he was willing to adapt.

Shido glanced out the window as the car moved quietly through the city streets. Madoka sat by his side, hands clasped in her lap, and every so often, at a sharp turn or a bump in the road, their knees would touch. Across from them in the limousine (lavishly provided by the concert committee) was Ginji, curled up on his side, eyes closed and lulled to sleep by the steady movement of the car. He had been so excited when Madoka invited he and the snake bastard along to her recital, but a few performances and glasses of champagne later, he was fast asleep, snoring faintly. 

Thinking of the snake bastard, he frowned. Something seemed off about him that morning. It wasn't like him to give up an opportunity for free food and a chance to mooch off high society. More than that, Madoka had once told him she thought Midou understood the violin in a way Ginji did not begin to comprehend. That a bastard like him could appreciate it and its art had made him snort softly. 

But Midou remained behind at the cafe, saying that while Ginji was off enjoying the expensive life, he'd back home working his ass off to feed them for the next week. 

It was more than the snake bastard's behavior. It was the way the air felt, some odd, underlying tension Ginji did not sense, but Shido could feel and hear. The birds were quiet as well. He had grown so accustomed to their chatter, only when they were silent did he know something was wrong. 

Probably nothing, he dismissed, gaze leaving the city lights. Sometimes feelings like this happened, some with reason, and others not. Until he knew for certain, it wasn't worth the energy to worry. 

He felt fingers touch his hand, Madoka reaching blindly for him, and he took her hand into his. Eyes finding her in the dark backseat, he could see her smiling. 

"Thank you for coming, Shido-san," she said, and her fingers squeezed his. She laughed quietly. "Ginji-san is asleep, isn't he?" 

"Yeah," Shido answered. "Idiot passed out the second we got into the car." Several champagne glasses had made for one sleepy Ginji. Shido was almost looking forward to turning over the pleasantly buzzed thunder emperor over to his partner. 

"I hope he enjoyed it." 

"He did. Don't worry." 

"Did you, Shido-san?" 

Shido tensed at the question. "Ah..." How did she do that? Always catch him off guard with so simple a question, yet a question he felt was weighted with the world. Of course he enjoyed it. He loved to listen to her play. But he had never had a strong grasp of words, and he didn't know how to put what he felt into a language she understood. It was easier with animals. 

He turned his face away, embarrassed, and muttered softly, "Yeah, I did." 

"You're not blushing, are you?" Her voice held a note of amusement, and he remembered how she had once accused him of blushing and then touched his face to feel his warm cheeks. Even the memory was enough to color him. 

"No," he denied, still in a mutter. Again, she laughed softly. 

"Liar." 

The brakes whined as the limousine pulled to a stop. Hand slipping from Madoka's, Shido reached for the door handle and pushed it open, stepping outside. The Honky Tonk cafe was still lit up even at the time of night, a friendly respite for night owls and insomniacs. Unconsciously, he tugged at the suit jacket he wore, inexplicably uncomfortable. Something about being in an expensive suit in lower Shinjuku... 

"Should we wake Ginji-san?" Madoka joined him outside the limousine. The driver had been instructed to come to the cafe first, then take them the rest of the way to Madoka's estate. He sat by quietly, his window rolled down, awaiting instruction. 

"What, that idiot fell asleep?" A new voice interjected, and Shido glanced over to find the snake bastard standing outside the shop. It unnerved him, sometimes, how quietly and precisely he could move. Just like a snake approaching its kill. 

"Hi, Ban-san," Madoka said brightly. Ban glanced in her direction, and when he answered, there was something odd about his tone. Something was bothering him. 

"Yo, Madoka-chan." 

Resting a hand on top of the limousine, Ban poked his head inside to find his sleeping partner. Seemed almost a shame to wake him. Lying there so comfortably, no idea of what was happening in Mugenjou in his mind. For a moment, Ban almost didn't want to shake him awake. 

"Oi, Ginji." He reached out, rapping his knuckles lightly against Ginji's cheek. Brown eyes snapped open, disoriented and confused, and Ginji blinked around slowly. 

"Eh? Oh, Ban-chan..." He blinked slowly. "Did I fall asleep?" 

"Yeah, you did. Looks like you had fun, though." Ban could smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath. "Smells like you did, too." 

"Oh..." Ginji laughed sheepishly. Though his buzz seemed to have worn off in his sleep, Ban still gripped his arm and helped ease him out of the backseat. Shido watched, a slight frown curving down his lips, and wondered what was going on in the snake bastard's head. 

"It was really fun, Madoka-chan." Ginji flashed her a lopsided grin. She returned his smile with her own, though she could not see his. Ban doubted she needed to. Ginji radiated smiles. 

"I'm glad you had fun. Maybe next time, Ban-san will come with us." 

A smirk appeared on his face, but Shido could see it was without its cocky mirth. "Yeah. If they let in this monkey trainer, they'd let in somebody like me." Still, Shido took him up on the invite. 

"Shut the hell up, snake bastard." 

Ban might have said something more, or Madoka might have interrupted, but Ginji silenced all of them, letting out a long, loud yawn. Shido blinked at him curiously. 

"Alcohol makes him tired." Ban rolled his eyes. "Thanks for bringing the idiot back in one piece, Madoka-chan." 

"Of course, Ban-san." 

Shido took her by the hand and guided her back to the car, glancing over his shoulder to see Midou ushering his sleepy partner into the cafe. With Madoka safely inside, he turned around once more, watching them. Midou would (try to) kick his ass if he ever commented on how much the tough-as-shit bastard fussed over his partner. He had seen Ginji into the cafe, sat him down at a booth, and was now barking at Paul to bring him something to eat and drink. Another notch in the ever growing tab. 

Amused, he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He had never liked Midou. Hell, he still didn't. Not much, anyway. Ginji teased and said that no matter what they said, over time and assignments together, through Mugenjou and the recovery of the arms of the Venus de Milo, he and Midou had become friends. Shido would have said it was that he'd learned to tolerate the jerk and his place in Ginji's life. But he never forgot who Midou was. Even if he was a man who doted incessantly on his partner, he was also a man Shido had seen snap necks without the blink of an eye. 

Ban saw him watching, his eyes leaving Ginji briefly. He shoved his hands into his pockets. 

"Be back in a sec, Ginji. Gonna see off the monkey trainer and his lady." 

The door chime jingled as he opened the door, Ban closing it behind him and lifting his eyes to meet Shido's. 

"Something happen?" Shido asked. 

"Could be," Ban answered, not missing a beat. "We'll see." 

"What is it?" 

Ban shrugged. "Don't worry about it for now, monkey trainer. Me and Ginji'll let you know." 

It was all Shido was going to get out of him, for now. No reason to worry all of them. It was bad enough, having to tell Ginji there was a chance someone he cared about could be there one day, and then simply gone the next. Add in the monkey trainer, and by default the thread spool, and it would be needless worrying for all of them. Gen hadn't said for sure there were threats on Makubex's life. Wasn't worth the effort to call in the troops just yet. 

He was prepared for a fight, but Shido let it go. Maybe it was Madoka waiting in the limousine; maybe it was Ginji gobbling down a pizza inside the cafe. Whatever reason, Shido was letting him off this time. 

"All right," he conceded, "but don't take this on yourselves, whatever it is." 

"Couldn't if I wanted to." They were disgustingly buddy-buddy and family-like in that way, Ginji and his former kings. Ban lifted his hand in a wave. "See you, monkey trainer." 

He watched the limousine long enough to see it disappear around the street corner, thumb rubbing the lighter in his pocket unconsciously -- a nervous habit. When its tail lights disappeared, he turned slowly and headed back into the cafe. The bell chime after him right on cue. 

Ginji was sprawled in the booth he had left him, dressed in his wrinkled suit, tie askew, and pizza sauce on his fingers. High class, he was not. He lifted his head, soft brown eyes meeting Ban's and a doofy grin on his face. 

"It was a lot of fun," he said. "Madoka-chan's concert, I mean." 

"Yeah, I got that." Ban slipped into the booth across from him. It was late. Natsumi was already gone for the night, and Paul would be closing up the shop soon. They would be kicked to the curb as usual, but at least for now, they had this moment. Ban didn't really want to tell him what was going on out on the cold street corner. 

"You should have come." 

"Next time. Anyway, turned out pretty lucky I was here today." 

Ginji's face lit up. "Did we get a job?" 

"Yeah. It's kinda complicated, though." 

Ginji continued to grin. "It's okay. Whatever it is, we can do it, right?" 

Yeah, he knew that. They were the Get Backers. Their success rate was (nearly) one hundred percent. But this job was different than most they came by. It was personal, and it threatened the lives of people Ginji cared for. 

"You remember that guy Gen?" 

Ginji blinked, puzzled. "Yeah. The pharmacist in Mugenjou." 

"He requested the job." Probably could have chosen a better moment to spring it on him, Ban thought. Preferably when he wasn't still feeling the affects of a buzz and blinking at him with such a lost, confused expression. 

He leaned back in the booth and reached for his cigarettes. "He says people are going missing in Mugenjou. That all the ones that don't exist in the real world are being deleted by whoever the hell runs that place. He wants us to find the guy who created the program that made those people." 

He wasn't expecting much of a reaction, and he didn't get one. Ginji sat silently for a long moment, processing the information. Ban could try explaining it to him in as simple of terms as he could, but even then, he doubted his partner would understand. Ginji had never understood the truth of Mugenjou. He knew there were virtual people and that Makubex was one of them, but to Ginji, it didn't matter. They were all people. Every single of them was a living, breathing person, whose life had value and meaning, and they were the people he had once sworn to protect. 

"Deleted...?" Ginji repeated. 

Ban let out a stream of smoke. "The old guy thinks the computer kid might be in danger." 

"Makubex?" Ginji asked quietly. Ban shrugged his shoulders. 

"Didn't think you'd want to turn it down. I told him we'd help him out." 

With a sharp twist of his head, Ginji looked up at him. "'course we will. I can't let anything happen to Makubex." 

Ban grinned. He couldn't expect anything less of his bleeding heart partner. "I figured you'd say that." 

"He's my friend. Even if he's... it doesn't make any difference to me. I can't let them hurt him." 

Whoever the hell 'they' were. There was someone or something that tugged the strings inside the infinite fortress, but hell if Ban knew who it was. Not even Ginji, who had been revered like some god there, had any idea of what happened in the levels above the Beltline. It made things a little more difficult when their enemy was someone they had never seen or knew even existed. 

Difficult, yeah, but not impossible. Especially not for the (nearly) one hundred percent rate Get backers. 

Reaching out a hand, Ban flicked Ginji in the forehead. "Don't make that face. We'll help out the computer kid." 

Ginji flashed him one of those smiles that seemed to radiate light. "Thanks, Ban-chan." 

"Yeah, yeah." Ban sighed. "We just better get one damn big pay off for this..."


End file.
